No matter that we've never met,
Compassion radiates from afar.
Rippling outward, gathering strength,
Expanding across the oceans wide.
A warm light like a rising sun,
Gently touches grieving hearts.
Distant strangers, I empathize.
Compassion has gracious eyes
For your sorrows and your tears.
With time, may it soften grieving pains.

Sometimes I wonder.........
Where will I be when I get old
Who will love me for my soul
Thoughts of loneliness cross my mind
Am I running out of time?
It’s so scary in this desolate place
Staring out a window into space
What have I done during my time here on earth?
Who will be waiting on me? Did I earn my worth?
Life passes by really fast
Always thought my time would last
Thinking of my people that have gone on before me
Do they know…...Is that where they’ll be?
Remembering the last smile I saw on his face
Will I have to run his same race
Will they leave me alone to think of my time of the past
Or will they surround me to celebrate and have a blast
Pictures and memories is all that’s left
Tear after tear while I take deep breaths
Stones and lettered monument will be there for me
The sunshine and the storms pass while I sleep
In this narrow place I will lie
Unable to speak, unable to cry
Thy will is done and now time moves on
Who is next? Who will be gone?
Sometimes I wonder……………
By Johnnie Eaves

O beloved mother, o beloved sisters
departed from me, within years
of each other, to sadden my living;
I spend my days weeping...
reminiscing in my sorrow:
how we laughed together,
and faced another serene tomorrow,
knowing that sharing kindness
would bond our destinies
in ways so devoted and immense!
O beloved mother, o beloved sisters...
I let the unconsumed joy of memories
take me to those yesterdays
to thank God for our existence,
when we enjoyed the gifts He offered;
yes, even the smallest of them
were so lovely and precious!
And by watching how you faced death,
I admired how you became the bravest...
slowly letting go of what you possessed!
O beloved mother, o beloved sisters...
do you want me to continue crying,
or smile and console you with a future promise:
that soon we'll embrace one another
under the joyful eyes of our Creator?
Nothing foolish I will do to harm myself;
and wait I will 'till my end comes,
but until then my solemn prayers I'll recite
amid tombstones guarded by triumphant angels...
and bound for Heaven, I'll be smiling!

When my eyes close for the last time
I hope to have touched so many in my
Life time on my journey of life
Those I meet and left behind
With my smile and loving heart
That never discriminated
And hated in justice felt from the heart
When love it was from deep with in
Protected with faith those loved
And held closes to my heart
Never hated but forgave those who
Try to keep me down and kill my faith
To those who shed a tear for me
I hope to wipe dry with my love not gone
For my loving heart lives on with in each
And every one who knew me as big as my height
I will be with you in heart and spirit
For you will keep alive every time you think of me
Remember the good memories
Relive them when you feel sad that I am gone
For I will be in a better place at rest
Waiting to reunite with each and every one
Much love always

Twenty sets of footprints
scattered in the snow.
Twenty wings that flutter
as the breeze begins to blow.
Twenty peals of laughter,
Twenty toothless grins,
Twenty eyes that twinkle
as their journey begins.
Twenty desks left empty.
Million hearts that mourn.
Six will join to guide them,
unsung heroes born.
Twenty little angels
playing in the snow
dropping tiny snowflakes
on those who stayed below.

You had the spirit of a stallion.
You could not be tamed until you were ready
and no matter how life may have tried you could not be broken.
You brought a piece of something that many did not possess to every life,
and when you opened your mouth unearthly words of wisdom were spoken.
You were strong and beautiful and had the deepest blue eyes I've ever seen.
The love that you held in your heart was like something out of dream,
almost unreal.
It was love and confidence and support and stability you made me feel.
God blessed me by letting me be a part of you.
I am so happy that our lives crossed paths and you helped see me through.
Now you are in His memory, waiting to be raised.
When you live again, your mind will be clear.
The fog will be lifted.
There will be no haze.
You will run about and never die.
You will feel no pain or fear, never cry.
Your days will be filled with love, strong and true.
Your last words to me were I love you.
Here I wait, just trying to get through.
I will see you again, Grandma.
Into my arms, I will welcome you.

All in one faded-black day
(but let None forget)
In my arms, her body lay
(my life was the price to pay)
A tragedy, through the lack of humanly shame
(do they know pain)
My darkly colleen has to suffer no more
(Robert nor do you)
Let me die
(please hear my haunted cries)
If I can not see Sophie tonight
(live on with my grey)
I'm just a mess of despairing words
And broken nerves
Another mourning, afflicted sight
(through decay, love can remain)
Solace, sympathy are just more lies
She is all I need
Until you decide she is just another sadist's toy
My Angel, why did you have to fly so far away
My Angel, just let one feather stay
My Angel has flown away
My Angel, why did you have to fly so far away
My Angel, just let one feather stay
My Angel has flown away
(My body is amortal, die I may,
Together, our hearts will forever stay)

Such has passed:
the flower,
her soft touch,
her
pure loveliness,
allure
comeliness
Such has passed:
the precious days
which count;
she was born
Such shall not pass:
the promise
from the One who
did raise our Lord,
“to raise all
who are yours”!

You flourished and blurred
like a spark on wind
Gracefully and quickly like a frightened hind
in pursuit of light
You harvested through bushy meadows
taken by blight
In struggle with plight
had you lost your might
And gave out
although never you gave up.
Where are you?
For you must be still there.
For I still can feel you
somewhere in the air.

LOOK AT THE FLOOR OF HEAVEN
LAID WITH PATTERNS OF BRIGHT GOLD
FOR US THEY ARE BUT LITTLE ORBS
BUT IN HIS MOTION
LIKE ANGELS THEY SING
SO MANY SONGS OF HARMONY
TO THE SOULS OF IMMORTALS
AND WHILE THIS MUDDY VESTURE OF DECAY
DOES GROSS IN THEM
WE MORTALS CANNOT HEAR IT.
HOLD YOUR FORTUNE FOR YOUR BLISS
A GENTLE SCROLL
A DIAMOND RING
ALL GONE
LOSS UPON LOSS
LIFE UPON LIFE
DEATH UPON DEATH
PAIN UPON PAIN
A MAN OF THE PEOPLE
THE VILLAINRY THE BEASTS TAUGHT HIM
THAT HE EXECUTED
UNTIL THINGS FELL APART
JUDGE HIM NOT
AND MOURN HIM A LEGEND
CHINUALUMOGU!
FOR WHOSE SAKE
THE ARROW OF THE GODS GRANTED JUSTICE.
CHRISTOPHER OKIGBO CALLED THEM BEASTS
DAVID DIOP CALLED THEM VULTURES
FOR ME
THEY WERE WEEDS ON OUR SOIL
COLONIAL MASTERS
WHO AWAKENED OUR SLEEPING LIONS.
ACHEBE THREW THE BOMB
AND DIED BEFORE IT EXPLODED
THIS COOLED HIS FRIENDS
AND AWAKENED HIS ENEMIES.
THEY LAUGHED AT HIS LOSSES
AND SCORNED ALL HIS GAINS
HE SEEKED NOT REVENGE
YET HIS SILENCE SCRAPPED ALL NATIONS
THWARTED THEIR BARGAINS
AND WITH TWO HEADS OF FOOLS
HE REPAID THEM FOR ONE
AND THEN THERE WAS A COUNTRY
HE CHOSE NOT WHAT MANY MEN DESIRED
AND REJECTED THE BARBAROUS MULTITUDE
CRYSTALLIZED THE INFERIORITY COMPLEX
AND FOUGHT BACK TO BACK
FOR AFRICA.
NO ILL-LUCK STIRRED AT FIRST
NO TEARS BUT OF OUR SHEDDING
NO SIGHS BUT OF OUR BREATHING
VARIOUS CREDITORS SPRANG
ENEMIES AROSE
YET HE'D GIVE UP NOTHING FOR THE WILDERNESS OF MONKEYS
NOR FOR THE GENERATION OF WOLVES
AN AMBASSADOR OF LOVE RARELY SEEN
HIS PLEAS WERE FOR THE TAUNTED AND CORRUPT
AND WITH HIS GRACIOUSLY SEASONED WORKS
HE OBSCURED THE SHOWS OF EVIL
WHAT DAMNED ERROR!
BUT SOME SUPERIOR WOULD BLESS AND APPROVE IT WITH A TEXT
HIDING THE GROSSNESS WITH FAINT ORNAMENTS
LOOK ON BEAUTY
AND YOU SHALL SEE
IT IS PURCHASED BY THE WEIGHT
OFTEN HAVE YOU BEEN TOLD
THAT ALL THAT GLITTERS IS NOT GOLD
FAREWELL, THE HOPE OF AFRICA
FOR NOW YOUR SUIT IS COLD
WE LOVE AND MISS YOU
BUT OUR PRAYERS WITH YOU SHALL BE
OH LORD
ARISE AND AWAIT
FOR HIS GENTLE SPIRIT
UNTO YOU DEAR GOD
COMMITS ITSELF TO BE DIRECTED
THE BEAUTYFUL ONES ARE INDEED NOT YET BORN
BUT THE BORN INDEED ARE MOST BEAUTIFULLY PRECIOUS
ADIEU ALBERT!

Sequence
I saw the train at middle distance,
It ran slow and was white,
It had many window and in each
One I saw my brother.
He didn´t see me although he looked
In my direction, but beyond me
And the life he had lived before me.
I think it was a spring day I saw flowers
Twined together like a bouquet
Near the tracks… the train disappeared
Into a tunnel and when all was
Quiet I heard a bird sing so sadly I thought
It must have lost its nest.

Introduction: At some point of our lives, someone close to us departs off to the next
phase. We think of the good times and try not to think the bad; but sometimes it haunts us
back to how we responded in a naive way for our juvenile wishes. And sometimes we see them
in our dreams at the utmost optimism and glory. But the fact that we get to realize what
we did back then may have cherished and broken their souls in some ways, we always wonder
if we could alter the deeds that wounded their affection in our times of immaturity…And
pray that we get a second chance to do so for our next life. *the first two lines have some inspiration from another piece*

Even if our hearts were as strong as a storm, we’d still feel a little bit sad
Knowing that we’ve lost our grandfather, our friend, our dad.
For so many years, we’ve felt their presence
In so many ways, we’ve felt complete,
But truly, even if we deny – We sometimes skip a heartbeat.
Our lives are nothing but their memories and their art,
Orbiting us each day, reminding us of who we are
Where we stand and to whom we belong,
We pray and cry up oceans for them night after night
Praying to be together just one more time, in the worlds of light.
But yes you are so fortunate, that you got to leave,
You’ve made it to the greater step, I pray for us to meet.
May your soul be blessed and may it shine brighter than the sun, Again and again
‘I love you’ it’s not a lie, I may not have said it that much
But I hope you knew inside, even if I may have been unkind as such
Nothing is left for us to do but feel the tears stream down our eyes
For we, once in a while have broken their hearts with one or two lies,
Their face glows and vividly fades away from our dreams those nights
That’s when we fall, fall down to our knees, pray for we could have changed
The ways we reacted back in those days.
Thoughts of those moments, thoughts of their sorrow smile
Now makes us realize how we never cared,
For that to overcome, we treasure the good times we’ve shared,
The times we’ve heard them say “You’ve made me proud”
The times we’ve felt them lay their hands, oh so be crowned.
Their tender touch, their forgiveness
Their blessings for us and their happiness,
We pray to feel it all again
Bring it all again,
To the eternal life, after this time.

I picture Kashmir through lightened KL. News of another massacre darkens my eyes
Winds are thirsty there. They continue to taste the young blood.
I groom myself with exquisite things,
Sipping ice tea in ac room, I comfort myself
And Kashmir burns. Kashmir set ablaze
I can smell the warm blood of beaten corpse
Where from winds bought this smell. Somewhere Karbala reborn.
Mosques are being slammed
There windows stoned. And the black boots leave their footprints on Mimber
Even God judges on evidence
There is one Imaam left now; he hides her daughters in his shadow
A blunt knife in his hands; soon he will sacrifice them to keep their innocence
Kashmir is burning. Kashmir is bleeding
And I write.
Army jeep chases the tracks. To find the associated bodies
They are alive now. Soon they will be dead
From Patan to Sopor, And in narrow passages of nostalgic downtown
Ghosts of curfew
Haunt the houses for young souls.
From the Kupwara cantonments, search lights chase emptiness
Nothing is left now. Search lights can’t see inside the graves
A boy there went missing for two days. His father starts digging his grave.
I put my earphones on and I close my eyes. I sleep
While my Kashmir is ablaze
“It’s me poor farmer’s son. Kupwara’s charm, I feel no pain”.
I see him so alive in my dreams.
He chants songs of Mahjoor from his burnt lips. My hands shiver. He has no finger nails.
I see his smoke tanned skin. Same as that of Khayam’s barbeques
He stands at a distance from me. I can still smell kerosene
“Tell my mother to let her heart become cold. Her heart will not bear my state.
Tell my mother to let her eyes become blind. Her eyes will not withstand my sight.”
I follow him towards his tortured body. He tells me to follow the spilled blood.
His blood has made its own Jhelum. I row on it. Until it gets lost in black boots
The story will turn into legend. I find his body no more.
On the streets silence prevails. Nobody has permission to wail.
Sisters are beatifying coffins while brothers look for stones.
For bullets there will be stones
Kashmir is ablaze. She is wailing in grotesque tones.
In Lal Ded hospital a new born cries: Father register me at cantonment then take me out
Death is recruiting in dozens at a time.
Tomorrow is curfew. Death has no curfew pass.
How they want to identity you. Becomes your identity
People burn up all you identity cards.

Black face preacher boy smiling, Pittsburgh black boy
Come snow white all my sins away
Come ladle and spoon the church Jehovah's joy
Come altar me to kneel and pray
Black face boy, jumping up and down in glory
From end to end of dais yearning to jump the cage
Pulpit acting like a stage, I feel the kingdom rage
In the follicles of flesh, tell sin's story
Bring back the flock, O, Jesus saves
Bring back the word cross the blue waves.
O but my black face preacher friend is silent
Face skyward and no word is said
And in my heart, memory makes lament
Donald Leroy Crowder is dead.
From 1925 to now is long, long walk
A long walk for a black child, all the way to Canaan's home
And everywhere a truth seed grows in some fertile loam
And I too out of it, a full flaming stalk
But when church is full the silence
Is sorrows secret evidence.
Black face preacher boy smiling, lighting the word
In dark hearts and twisted places
I tell them do not cry, there's more to be heard
Waiting for the morning, traces
Of sorrow swept away, waiting for the dawn
To come singing, you and that choir, and the angels winging
Silence, the black boy salvation in white rejoicing
O let the glory come, come dawn
O Christ again, come jubilee
O grave be glad and set us free.

At This Wake, None Keep Vigil…*
Time longer than rope, chokes hearts
dangling in the reality of struggle;
refuted victories mimic life
of children without mothers; widows veil
their grief, wailing in excruciating silence.
Fragments of men, void of hope,
count their dead; communal graves
swell with daily souls of the dust.
(Indeed, these are truly the wretched of the earth.)
In the neap tide of sorrows, mourners
wade the blood left by Pilate’s children.
In the stale winds of time,
woe is me, cries the fore shaken
land; lamenting the scriptures, echoing
Freneau: They saw their country’s woe.
Decaying bodies, stacked like sliced, molded bread,
released spores of death to praying mourners, praying:
give us this day, our daily bread…
Like a sobbing bosom void of tears, life sags on;
and the children of Sisyphus continue to struggle:
guided by the warrior ghost of hope.
In the meanwhile, the on looking world veils
Itself with its sacred sealed silence:
At this wake, none keep vigil…
None.
*A line from the poem, “Recession”, by Wole Soyinke

We come again to the stall at the gate
We come to the memory of empire
Where Delphine sat, the humble queen in state
And fed her family from one desire
That they should noble live, and work and dream
And love … and the gate was her throne supreme
But roll back now the tears of dusty days
When the sweet scent of sugar like anthem rise
From the sweat of workers, and see amaze
Miss Delphina with God’s fire in her eyes
This woman at Caymanas toiling pass
The sun’s hot noon, noble and full of class
See her, a mother, a warrior queen
Whipped by circumstance without surrender
Did anyone call her timid, call her mean?
Who could not find a place then to shelter?
Who did not taste her kindness? Higglers too
Serve for love, O mother, we honor you
From the coal black of days you supplied us
And your children five want not, O, nor need
But your hard work and love so inspired us
We rise in common hope so to succeed
With dignity, but not proud, a true friend
Rarely found in the common walks of men.
Caste nor class can cast decree, nor limit
Our aptitude to rise. Belief has wings
Death cannot break, faith flies in the spirit
And through slant of rain its brimmed vision sings
Delphina, Delphina, we miss you though
The door is so silent through which you go
No more the produce truck will hear her voice
Nor weary hands dry a child’s hungry tears
O death be humble, dare you now rejoice
She sleeps till Jesus shall for his kingdom appears
And we will hear great heaven’s trumpet blow
And with you mother we will rise and go

Stuck at the bottom
I'm caving in.
One thought of you not here
Puts me in a claustrophobic nightmare.
I can't wake up.
I may not see you again.
Reality isn't different from my sleep.
I'm still running aimlessly away to nowhere.
I'm so blinded.
Every second is hidden that I'm spinning in circles.
Makes me reckless, violent, purple dead.
Over and over something's wanting me to say
I was a creep for treating you that way.
Can you forgive me?
I promise I won't make you cry.
One more chance I'll be a loyal friend.
Walk to your door.
I'm closing in.
Standing on thin ice there's no turning back.
I'll say it straight out without fumbling.
For once in my life
I confess it was a mess.
Screwed up everything special we had planned.
But now I'm here alone.
Hope is my only invisible ally.
I raise my white flag to the skies.
Will you operate my wounded heart?
The stakes are high.
But I'm willing to continue where we left off
If you have room in your heart for rent.

So eloquent the beauty absorbed around you;
You uplifted me by your sweet aroma.
Oh, I'm very sorry to say,
That day in May caused a breath to pay.
You stole my heart away
And cured my parading heartache;
Only if I'd known what would have brought that day,
Then I'd have hidden and gone another time.
I felt plagued and wanted to die;
As a lover would take a shot for you, I'd dodge infinity for you.
Yet only a stranger we both were,
I'm here writing this letter swollen with a million tears of heavy cries.
Maybe it could have been fate that we unofficially met;
A destiny resulting in both loss and gain.
A second's glance is certain to be the catch,
Since here I stand alone in the rain.
A passive reflection of sorrow illuminates from the scar;
My heart begins to beat slowly in rhythm with my eyes.
The ticking of the clock abruptly stops;
"I know you're up there," I finally whisper
…….smile

I know your pain
Although I don't know what's happening,
I can still feel the vain.
Seems like the beginning is the ending
One moment there's bliss
It feels much like a wet kiss.
But out of nowhere you see a mirror,
"It felt so real," as you stand there alone.
You try to make sense of it all;
Yet everything begins to fall.
"AHHHH!" you scream to the top of your lungs.
Your blue eyes are running waterfalls.
It hurts me to see a single tear,
You're not the only one to hide in the room.
Swallow your tears, don't let it drop,
A splash will only cause more bitter props.
But like I say,
Tomorrow will always bring another day.
So Faith, throw away your thorns,
anticipating a happy God-given next day.

Don't be afraid to go back in time and see the life you lived.
Artificial smiles in a world stained with pain.
People you trusted, you deemed as your friends.
Only later they were icing on a cake. No one's understood you.
A book by its cover, they threw you away.
Your heart's vulnerable, breaking to pieces day-after-day.
Don't give up. It's not the end.
If everyone's turned their backs on you, know I'll be always there for you 'till the end.
Like shadows that never fade, it's inevitable for your angel not to walk away.
So don't look down in tears. Just take my hand and I'll kill away the pain.
I'll do all that I can to help you shine bright once again.
Through death and hell, I'll forever be your friend.
On a bed of nails, we won't turn pale.
Don't give up. It's not the end.
When everyone's turned their backs on you,
know I'll be always there for you even after my end.
Six feet under, my heart won't mend.
Everything that has an ending has a beginning in the end.
It's not the other way around.
So turn around, my dear, 'cause it's time to leave our mark.
It's the series finale of what had been.
Two will become One.
One will leave a legacy for the world to learn its inconsistencies.
Let's hit the reset and see the bliss tonight.
Because the end is not the end.

Imagine
a barren desert:
dry,
deprived of life,
where one would be sent
only in their worst nightmare.
This is a place
where
one's body and soul
would surely die
This is a place
where
drought
has deprived you of tears
- you no longer can cry,
the last hope for thee
is to find some water
- there is none,
No matter how hard you try,
there is no hope for thee
- you are losing your life.
What is left for you
is turning into stone:
your spirit
- dehydrated,
your flesh
- dried to the bone.
There is no help for thee,
you are here alone
willing to return home,
but all hope is gone.
There is nothing left,
but one strength -
thy last resort,
yet it demands
thy effort,
the very last feeling
not letting your life
give in,
it is your will of living,
to live
for the people whom you love.

He was just a brash young kid,
Couldn't even legally drink.
He did all the things he did
Because he had freedom to think.
He watched America bleed
From terrorists across the sea.
He answered his countrie's need,
Wanting to be all he could be.
He went to war to defend
The freedom we've all come to know.
He thought maybe in the end
He' d make a difference and so
He gave all he had to give.

Who threw water on the wick?
Who, as restless and trapped
can survive in this necropolis?
Trumpeting down the walls
that are not of Jericho.
Trumpeting down the walls
that besiege a chthonic people.
Tonight I shall return as a black dove
to bring you an oak tree branch from Dodona
And a darkness full of lightning
all the way from the palace of Atropos.
So that you stay up all night
and knead
a bright sunshine for tomorrow.
"Good morning wind-vane",
to say when morning comes,
"where do the winds blow from today?"
And just like a white horse
to gallop against the wind.

When I'm old and tired
I reckon I'll say and do stuff
in my typically bold way will
inspire people wanna take me down.
I deserve it.
(Deserve is one helluva word, ain't it?)
When I'm old and tired
hope folks will overlook
glaring eccentricities and contradictions
In favor of effort to love.

Vacant heart, vacant mind, what have I done?
I wander these days with my soul on the run.
Although my mind is full I feel empty,
a whilrwind laden with confusion and memory's debris.
My heart aches to feel the love I once had,
Do I really wish to carry on feeling sad?
Hold me as you once did in our moments of solitude,
forget about the scars on your heart that are forever tattooed.
For they will heal if you let your pain and anger go,
if you accept my love to you on whom I bestow.
All these long days undecided,
don't let the influence of others lead you to be misguided.
Vacant heart, vacant mind, I never wanted to be apart from you,
lonliness, anger, fear, regret, together must be subdued.

He happened upon us
Like an answer to a prayer.
He was a fairly quiet man;
Friendly, personable and caring,
Never too loud or outspoken.
He was exactly what we all needed.
He was our shining Ray of hope.
He was not a large man;
Just slightly taller than my mother.
But he loved her,
And us as well,
With a heart that should have been
Impossible to contain
Within the confines
Of the even the largest human body.
He re-taught our family the concept
Of true, endless, unconditional love.
He gave of himself freely
Whether it be money for an evening out,
Good advice in times of uncertainty and strain,
The clothes off his back for those in need
Or a shoulder to lean on when someone was weary.
Unfairly was he ripped from us
Only eighteen months after coming to us.
All who knew him mourned with us.
His memory is one we cannot forget.
His lessons and his love
Go with us in all our journeys.
He was and always will be
Our shining Ray of hope.

The friend who gonna while sheer
In friendly, airy blast always . . .
The soul around . . .
Who ne’er mind —by renders a hurt
The old cougar, restful in bench by
In stares much bit
Of enjoying up nicely day by day
With the sun illume
With the windy hit passive his skin
When stars-oh-moon light
Once hold tho shadow heaven
In casting by thrilling
His whistler galloping
In fulling island ground soul, melody
In adding-lib —
In forgiving of resentful
Uncool off liaison
The cougar as look tensity my vicinity
By was, — who had been gone . . .
And inquired one nascency rose
On souls is mind —
Who will be next? O friend scathe-less
Airy blast always at others —
Who spring by, a proudly around?

Brutal and scourged bodies in fear,
This road; walked miles in silence,
Poor masses voices out in pain,
For a tyrant who never learns from the past.
His holiness on a second arrival,
On an errand to a stone heart,
Watered by a word, to the old wicked pharaoh,
What a re-occurrence?
How long can a strong heart lead you tyrant?
What direction would that be?
A mighty dictator eliminated by an apple.
What an Eve that led a dictator to destruction?
A dictator on his death,
Lowed below the open mud,
Naked.
Empty casket with all rites observed.
As those anthems came recurring,
Guns in the air to bid farewell to a dictator.
Our halcyon days will be restored,
Jubilation, celebration greets the exit of the ‘dark guggleman’.

Peace you built your house in the graveyard,
And gave yourself to those scattered bones,
While we toil to have you.
I laughed at the silent chat of bones.
Death how wicked you are!
Your visit leaves nothing but tears and mourning,
Only visiting, but not to be visited.
Can’t you spare, even on merit!
Three hundred and sixty five days without food,
Makes on dry bone yawn,
Like a hungry buffalo,
Those jaws are grudging, budging begging for food,
Death if you can show pity,
Let us know how your place is,
What is your house like? What is your mission?
Though, God made death, man patronizes it.
Graveyard of the dead,
With their resting dry bones waiting for the journey,
With their ears wide open for the trumpet,
For the talks of those dry bones echoes across the seas.